


I Learned From The Best

by badluckvixen13 (alteringviews)



Series: 1 Million for Black Hermione [15]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Hermione Granger, Cheating, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10093049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alteringviews/pseuds/badluckvixen13
Summary: How did it come to be that Hermione only had four friends in the world after the war?Oh, that's right...Ron had left her.





	1. Draco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco may be an arse, but he has a point.

Today, it was raining. She looked up from her place on her lush couch, let her eyes wander across the antique decorations and high-end pieces of her living room and smiled. The decorator had done a wonderful job on the house that was more library and kitchen than living space. It was rather large for one person, but it was perfect for her. Unmappable, with wards around it so thick that even Voldemort would have lost a few limbs trying to get in without being invited.  She had a muggle and a magical P.O. Box in London that she checked every once in awhile. Surprisingly, she still got a great deal of mail. Her muggle radio was playing an old Whitney Houston song that seemed oddly apt. 

_ Did you really think that I would really take you back? Let you back in my heart, one more time? _

Though she’s content to simply take in her surroundings, eventually, her eyes land on the stack of letters on the table, the latest batch she’d picked up from her boxes. They’d all been read, even the cursed ones, the howlers too. She hadn’t decided when she was going to send her next batch of replies. One of the writers was her employer, he at least he would see her the next day. Though he wouldn’t pry into her personal life at the office, he would at least be assured that she was still functioning properly if she showed up with her hair tamed into it’s usual curly, messy bun and her lab cloak. Her best friend was probably frantic since she’d told him that she wouldn’t be responding to his letters for a while, though she still read any that he sent. And then there was a man who had written faithfully since they’d established the fact that they were both alive in the aftermath. 

My how small her world had gotten for there to only be three writers to her who actually cared about her mental well-being. She supposed that strife truly reveals those closest to you.

It was interesting that those were the only letters that had any kind words, pleas to see her, or wishes of comfort in the pile and that they weren’t all Gryffindors, nor from Hogwarts. The Slytherin Prince, whom she’d punched in the face in third year, The Boy Who Lived Twice and The Bulgarian Bon Bon. The Howlers were from Ginny, Molly, and random people whom she’d never meet in person telling her that she should have considered herself lucky. She could even hear  _ filthy mudblood _ in the angry words on the page. Some of the letters contained slurs worse than that, but she found that she couldn’t feel them the way she used to. There was a time when such words would have torn her apart, but it was so far away that she’d only laughed at the letters. 

Maybe having it was the word that had been carved into her arm that had numbed her to the feeling. What was more interesting was that the words didn’t even sound like Draco’s sneering voice from so many years ago, nor Bellatrix’s hissing. She guessed that she was getting better in that regard. She sat back relaxing and watching the rain roll down the windows with a smile. 

How had the war changed so much? It had been over for years, yet it didn’t seem to have been the thing to ruin her life. She’d come out traumatized with a fading slur shaped scar on her arm, consistent tension in her shoulder from an injury, but… when it was over there was only a reason for a deep sigh. She’d thought that there had been a future that included the Ministry of Magic, Ron, marriage...kids maybe. 

She wrinkled her nose thinking of children with her dark brown skin and his ginger red hair and decided that her children would have to be all or nothing because half and half just didn’t look right. Funny, how she could only laugh at the thought when she’d daydreamed them before, mourned them before. 

Funny, how it had been Draco to find her first after that future had vanished forever. A future she’d been holding on to, striving for, going to therapy for, sacrificing and compromising for three years for had ended cold and abrupt like a guillotine through her life. She’d changed her habits, her wardrobe, part of herself trying to make things work with Ron-- for nothing. 

_ Stupid, _ she thought and shook her head, catching herself this time.  _ Human.  _

She was human, she reminded herself. Having faith, trust, and being willing to forgive and move on wasn’t being stupid. Wanting to work for a relationship wasn’t being stupid. It was being a responsible party in a relationship and she shouldn’t fault herself for picking a bad partner. She wasn’t…She wasn’t really in a place to pick anything that was actually good for her if it wasn’t expected of her at the time. 

That’s how Draco had found her. Or, rather, it was then that he showed up in her life not so long after it was mostly over. Not at her door, but in a muggle cafe. The one that she’d frequented with her parents, where the barista knew her order by heart and only gave her a small sad smile seeing her there alone so often. The older woman would give her a brownie with her tea and shoo her off to be with her thoughts. How he’d found her was a thing of wonder considering that she’d made herself incredibly hard to find for anyone in the wizarding world. 

She remembered it even though it was nearly a half a year ago. She’d only been sitting down for a few moments when he’d walked in. Wearing all black, he was taller than he had been in school, his hair still that platinum blonde the descendants of Veela were famous for, slate eyes had found her as looked at him, confused as to what he was doing there looking like a muggle businessman. 

*

He walked to her table and took a seat as a waiter came by to take his order. She looked at him like some impossible thing while bracing herself for whatever he had to say. Draco, as usual, was impeccably dressed making her feel a bit like a bum, but she really couldn’t care. Hadn’t she gotten tired of dressing according to the whims of anyone else? Let alone a man?  If she wanted to dress up, she’d do it on her terms, no one else’s ever again. After all, it hadn’t done her any good in the end but make her feel worse.

“Granger,” he greeted, none of the previous sneer in his voice. 

Somehow softer, gentler even as he regarded her across the table. She couldn’t tell if it was out of pity or a trick, but neither had been something she wanted a part of, so she sat there, staring blank and tired at him. She hadn’t really worried about him hurting her feelings. He didn’t have any of that power anymore. No one did. She was rubbed raw on the inside from days of fighting with Ron, with Molly, with Ginny, watching Harry come to her aid and cut ties with the Weasleys completely, threatening to leave the Ministry all together until she’d stopped him and left without another word--disappearing far away to her flat to curl up and lick her wounds until she could face the wizarding world again.

If she could face the wizarding world again.

“Yes, Malfoy? What can I do for you?”

His lips quirked as he thanked the woman for his tea and muffin. He opened his briefcase and pulled a black and silver folder from inside before sliding it across the table towards her. 

“I have a proposition for you.”

She didn’t open it and only went back to staring into her mug. 

“What sort of proposition?”

“As I hear, the idiots at the Ministry of Magic have finally dropped the ball and let you escape their sodding research department.”

Hermione took a sip, taking note of how strangely he worded his entire breakdown of her life over the past few weeks. He didn’t mention Ron, nor the scandal, nor anything else, but spoke of things that no one could really have known unless they’d been watching her. Her work at the Ministry wasn’t top secret, but it was more often than not buried beneath miles of paperwork, red tape, and nonsense that had everything to do with someone else’s ego and not her work. She remembered finding all of her papers unpublished except for the one copy while some idiot in the department had his distributed across the wizarding world. Research she’d headed, projects that were killed the moment the scandal became public… things that he wouldn’t have known about unless he’d had been watching her. 

Ron’s indiscretions, their arguments so many statements from women all over the world, Harry and Ron’s row and Rita Skeeter pushing the blame on  _ mudblood Granger _ tearing apart the Golden Trio with her fabricated betrayal. Hermione had nearly hexed the woman to pieces and ended up on the Daily Prophet’s “Crazy List” for it. She’d managed to alleviate Hermione of her trump card against the woman by making her a social outcast while still rebuilding her reputation for uncovering the “trouble in paradise” between Ron and Hermione. Ron had been given all the airtime he’d needed to defend himself and his choices, made a victim because Hermione hadn’t ever just faded into obscurity no matter how hard the Ministry had tried to make her do so. She hadn’t ever softened up and let him take the spotlight as was customary in the wizarding world.

Purebloods always took precedence. Men always took precedence. 

She had an Order of Merlin of the First class for her research for Merlin’s sake and several thousand galleons in prize money for it too. Her research was probably the only reason that the wizarding world was steering itself out of its archaic mode of thought and into the real world where inbreeding caused issues in any species. Even though none of her research projects had ever made it much further than where she put it on people’s desks, she’d raked in more money for the Ministry’s research department than the past three centuries combined. She’d saved that damned department and they’d fired her.  Ron had gotten to keep his Auror salary and prestige though she edited all of his reports, did most of his and Harry’s case research--he’d kept his job and she’d been fired. Stripped of her position in that meager, dusty little cupboard they dared to call an office. One that she’d accepted because updating the lab had been at the forefront of her mind.

She knew it would have been no different if she’d become an Auror with the two of them. Harry and Ron were partners and she’d be assigned to someone else and they would have still fired her. Kingsley wouldn’t have had a choice. She had been stripped of her ability to feel bad about it from weeks of sobbing, fighting, arguing and trying to understand.

_ What had she done wrong? _ Was the question when she was feeling particularly weak of heart. When she was feeling more herself, more logical it became  _ What did she have to do to make it all go away? _

Ron had left her after she’d taken him back. After they’d worked it out and talked, after she’d let herself trust him again after his first journey down the path of infidelity. They’d compromised, she thought things were going fine, but he’d left her. She remembered begging him to explain why, she needed to know. It had been a cold slap to the face after the sacrifices made. 

_ It’s just not enough, Hermione,  _ he’d said. 

The truth, she realized in her darkest hour, was that  _ she _ just wasn’t enough, no matter how much she straightened her hair, wore the sort of clothes he liked, stopped herself from correcting him and let him run himself into trouble with his terrible conclusions. No matter how much she backed off and let her need to help and be helpful go--

She hadn’t been enough. 

She shook her head again, catching herself from those dangerous thoughts. 

_ She hadn’t ever been what he wanted. _

The fact that he’d been cheating on her for the majority, if not the entirety, of their relationship had come out just after the break up. It had been enough to scrap her loses and take her dismissal with whatever bit of grace she had left in her body. There had been more than the one time she knew about… Far more predating it and after. She wasn’t sure if the pieces of her heart could be put together again even with a thousand reparo spells. 

She still had her Healer and other certifications to fall back on. Hospitals, schools, sports teams were always looking for a Healer, libraries always needed a librarian, schools always needed a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.  McGonagall had offered her the position readily, but she’d declined. She didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts. There were just too many memories there. She wasn’t bad off as her parents had left her quite a bit of money that had become available to her when she turned eighteen. She’d invested it, half in the muggle world, half in the wizarding, being a researcher for the ministry had just been a way to stay close to Harry and Ron, but away from war, to do what she loved… and now her life was in pieces.

The Brightest Witch of Her Age-- dumped and cheated on for years, fired and made public enemy #1 by an illegal animagus because Harry was a decent bloke. He’d broken up with Ginny over it, severed ties with the Weasleys for their friendship. At least, he’d gotten in touch with some distant Potter relatives and from what he knew of had begun to cultivate some sort of relationship with Narcissa and Draco as some of the last living relatives to Sirius. She shook her head remembering when Harry had written to her to say that Draco was actually a relatively good guy without his father’s influence.

“I need someone to spearhead my research department and had Potter gotten off his bum and realize that Weasley was as low as I warned him in first year, I’d be far richer than I am right now.”

Hermione looked at him and chose one question of the hundreds that had popped up in her mind. 

“Why?”

Draco snorted, “The Weasleys may be one of the twenty-eight, but that hardly counts for much in their case. Low class is still low class. Aside from the politics of the situation, I’m an opportunist, Granger. You need a job where you’ll be too busy to think and where your talents won’t be wasted, or hidden away, by a council of idiots. I need your talents. You’re not just a bookworm.”

“Yes, I’m a mudblood as well,” she quipped. “A home-wrecker too.”

Her lips almost twitched at the mention of that particular headline accusing her of sleeping with Harry thereby sending Ron on his path of infidelity in a fit of jealousy and breaking Harry and Ginny up. She snorted, what a load of tripe. Ron was always jealous of anyone he perceived to be doing better than him, including Hermione. He did whatever he had to to make himself feel better, even at the expense of his friends. She should have known that in fourth year, or when he left them in the forest… but no. She’d looked past it to see the man she thought he could be, knew he could be if he’d only just gotten out of his own way.

It had been a hard lesson to learn that she couldn’t ever make him get out of his own way...Of all the things she could teach him, self-esteem wasn’t one of them.

“A mudblood who bested purebloods educated in the finest for years. I think at this point your bloodline is a moot point. Any home that could be wrecked because someone has half a brain and some integrity isn’t much of a home… but the Weasleys live in a hovel, what would they know about a home?”

Hermione opened her mouth to defend them, but shut her mouth, crushing the old habit before it could rear its ugly, self-loathing head. Where had they been to defend her against Skeeter? Where had they been when Ron dropped her heart on the ground and proceeded to grind it to dust with his heel? Where had they been when her life was falling apart?

Yelling at her for the most part, helping Ron grind it into the texture of the pavement, or willfully ignoring the problem until it went away.

“I’m shocked to hear most of this from you.”

“The war changed us all, Granger,” he said. “I decided I like money, power and prestige more than prejudice.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that hiring me will go a long way to humanizing the Malfoys?”

Draco smirked, his slate eyes watching her over the rim of his mug, “Good girl, Granger. You’re catching on.”

“What’s in it for me? You’ve done so much research on me, then you know I don’t need a job.”

“Not a job, Granger,” he clarified. “A career to keep that Know-It-All brain of yours running as fast as it can manage without hindrance or doubt. It doesn’t hurt that in the process of  doing what you do best, what makes you happy, you’ll become filthy rich, does it?.”

He stood then, “My offer aside, you are an exceedingly hard woman to find, Granger.”

“Habit.”

He nodded solemnly and eyed her. He’d had to resort to incredibly muggle means of looking for her since she danced out of every wizarding means since the scandal broke across the news. Even the bloody muggle P.I. had had a hard time finding her, he’d only lucked out when he stopped in for coffee here and she happened to be sitting in the window.

“For what it’s worth,” he said. “The Weasleys can all go sod off. If he loved you, he would have never have strayed no matter what transpired between you.  You take no fault in his infidelity or immaturity. Being cheated on doesn’t change the fact that you are the Brightest Witch of Our Age.”

Hermione looked up and watched him exit the door before looking at the cash on the table, enough to pay for everything and leave a nice tip. She picked up the folder and stood after him, walking out the door to see him leaning against the telephone box in front of the cafe, looking at his silver pocket watch. 

“Faster than I thought,” he said, closing it and looking up. “You must have loved him dearly.”

Hermione said nothing as he offered his hand, “I look forward to working with you, Hermione.”

She shook hands with him and let him apparate them to his office building. Muggles and wizards alike working inside. He took her on a tour through the labs and the like, explaining that he was working towards having a foot firmly in both worlds and collecting money from both as well. There was talk of eventually bringing down the barrier between the muggle and wizarding world in order to stave off magical extinction. He figured there might as well be a company to test the waters. Muggles, after all, were a far larger consumer base than the wizarding population. The department she would be in charge of was in charge of finding a way to port technology from one side to the other. She read her employment contract and releases for the Ministry, the research she owned that was still housed in the Ministry’s archives, compensation tables and signed without a thought. It was a muggle contract, no harm to think of considering that it was just paper on a page and the numbers were more than generous and fair.

She came back the next day, dressed for a day in the lab and library, formal heels with her suit and went home too exhausted  not to sleep, too hungry not to eat, and too excited about the next day to cry. 


	2. Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds Hermiome.

She hadn’t looked back even for a moment. It had been the mark of the first day that she would be getting her life back. All of a month into her work, she moved out of the flat where all of her memories of Ron were still alive and well. By then, Viktor had received word about what was going on and had written to her with a flurry of promises to wring Ron’s ruddy, ginger neck and stomp him into dust if she wanted. She assured him that it wasn’t necessary even as he assured her that it really wouldn’t be a chore in the slightest. It had been sweet. He’d been the only person, besides Draco, that she’d given her new address to so they could write. Even Harry had been given her PO Box, muggle and wizarding, to send letters as she needed a break from that part of her life. He’d respected that, even though he want to see her desperately, to make sure she was okay.  

She’d been in Diagon Alley, coming out of store and walking through the snow covered street when Harry found her. 

*

“‘Mione?” 

She whirled hearing his voice not too far away. He’d advanced on her so fast she didn’t have time to react before his arms were around her, squeezing her tightly. He’d gotten a little broader, maybe a little taller and he smelled just like he always did: chocolate frogs and cinnamon.

“I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, ‘Mione. I’ve been looking for you. Trying not to look for you because you wanted space, terrified that something had happened to you. Are you alright?”

Hermione nodded and pulled back to look up at him. He’d cut his hair shorter, no longer ashamed of the scar on his forehead. He looked good, she guessed that Kreacher and the Potters were looking after him, or perhaps he’d just started to step out of his shell a little more now that everything was well settled. 

“I’m okay, Harry.”

“Can we talk?”

Hermione nodded, “I was on my way home… if you want. Dinner?”

“Are you… okay with that? We could go to Grimmauld instead.”

She nodded, “Okay.”

He took her hand and apparated them both to 12 Grimmauld. She smiled at the fresh paint down the corridor and the fact that the paintings still hung there. A new one of Sirius, Remus and Tonks were there as well. He smiled sadly at her and waved.

“ _ Hello Hermione, _ ” they said.

“Hi Sirius,” she said with a misty smile. “Remus, Tonks…”

“I had them commissioned a while ago, come on. Kreacher?!”

The elf appeared and greeted them kindly, though seeing her was apparently rather shocking. 

“Hello Kreacher, how have you been?”

“Well, Miss Granger...will you be staying for dinner?”

“Yes, I believe so.” He nodded and looked to Harry who smiled.

“Are Teddy and Patricia here yet?”

“No, they should be arriving soon.”

Harry nodded and led her down the hall towards the kitchen to take a seat. Harry looked at her and took a breath. 

“I… I didn’t know and then--”

“Harry,” she said. “I don’t think you wouldn’t have told me. I didn’t vanish because I didn’t trust you.  I needed… time.”

Harry nodded slowly, “And… have you had it?”

Hermione nodded, “Yeah… maybe not enough, but good enough for now.”

Harry waited until Teddy and Patricia, his babysitter, returned for dinner to ask Hermione what she’d been up to and is only happy to hear her talking, helping Teddy not make a complete mess of himself as he changed his hair color and his nose every few seconds, unable to contain his excitement, and smiling at them before going to bed. She isn’t sure how long she stayed, but when Harry walked her to the foyer to apparate home, he squeezed her tight and made her promise to come to dinner every once in awhile. Something inside her makes her promise to do so, no matter how much she thinks it will hurt. It seemed that she came over just about every week after. 


	3. Viktor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah... Viktor....

A crack of thunder makes her smile, looking out the window, wrapped in her warm blanket. It hadn’t hurt as badly as she thought it would have and the pain lessened more and more. She went to dinner with Draco occasionally, high profile places to discuss things, life, and generally be seen by the public. She met Narcissa who looked to have aged a few years more than the years that had passed. Lucius had kept his mouth shut the entire dinner, staring at her as she and Draco spoke like old friends. 

The war had changed them all it seemed. Draco had needed more than her mind to direct his research department, but perhaps her companionship as well. When she found out that he and Blaise were dating in secret, so many things had made sense. Draco was making moves to cut himself off from Lucius’s money in case things went badly with the reveal and doing a hell of a job of it. She probably needed someone outside of the situation to tell her that everything was fine… And perhaps assure them both that they made the most adorable couple she’d ever seen. And gods, did they ever. She’d never seen Draco so relaxed or content as seeing him with Blaise. 

“What are you doing up?”

She turned seeing Viktor in just his boxers walking towards her to join her on the couch with a kiss pressed to her cheek.

“The rain woke me,” she said with a smile, leaning against him. “Wanna get breakfast out?”

He hummed, “Sound good. Go to shop you like, yes?”

She nodded and looked at him, “Later though… could I convince you to have your way with me again?”

Viktor laughed and pulled the blanket free from her, leaving her naked and pushed her back onto the couch. 

“Viktor! Not on the couch!”

“On floor then?” Viktor asked mischievously, “Live little, mila.”

She shrieked in surprise as they tumbled to the floor and she managed to wiggle free of him taking off towards the kitchen to put the island between them even as he sauntered in, now as naked as she was, eyeing the arm supporting her breasts and then her face. 

“In kitchen,” he said with an appreciative and lusty smile. “You learn.”

Hermione didn’t even get to say anything before he’d grabbed her arm and tugged her over the island, before moving to pin her against it and sliding a finger into her so she moaned. She’d learned rather quickly that Viktor had the most wickedly knowledgeable fingers. He knew just how to touch, when to back off and how to get and keep her just on the brink. 

He was absolutely maddening. 

“You are wet, mila,” he rumbled in her ear, sliding his finger into her and pinning her still the way she liked, hands flat on the island. “I will have you here, just like this, yes?”

Hermione shuddered as he pulled her feet apart and bent her over. He’d loved the island from the first night he saw her standing at it. It was the perfect height to bend her over and give him perfect leverage to absolutely ruin her. To be honest, he’d been thinking about it since she’d found him months ago. Visiting Bulgaria for business and showing up at the training field like some dark haired angel. She looked… good. Much better than she had in the papers, her skin had been a darker brown, like she’d been sun bathing, wearing a gorgeously red sundress and shades, with that wicked smile and looking at him. He could barely breathe seeing her and his body was moving faster than his brain did, cornering her in a corridor and snogging her senseless, his hands seeming to be out of his control. When he’d had his fill, he’d flushed almost mortified at his behavior, stammering an apology before she laughed and put her arms around his neck. 

She bumped noses with him, “ _ I missed you too. _ ”

She’d thanked him and it seemed that everything after was just natural. They’d talked, he’d taken her out, courted her essentially, and it had always been wonderful. It was a rather new experience considering how so much of her relationship with Ron had been her dragging him to do something. She’d done her best not to repeat the behaviors, but with Viktor it was impossible to avoid suggestions--he always asked. He was rough when she needed him to be, domineering when she needed him to be, relaxed and easy when she needed it, gentle. 

_ “I was too easy with you last night for you to be up so early.” _

She gasped as he wrapped a hand around her throat, making her sit up and rest her weight on his hips as he slid in with one long thrust. She cried out, trying to grasp for purchase, but he’d already decided that she would get no leverage to steady herself. It’s a little heady, the way he so easily wraps his other arm around her waist and proceeds to thrust into her, keeping her away from anything grounded besides him. 

“So,” he grunted. “Beautiful, mila.”

He was so much bigger than her, he knew that, she was womanly, curvy, but he was a trained athlete that had to keep himself attached to a broom moving faster than a car. If he couldn’t hold her aloft and fuck her the way he wanted, he might have to think about retiring. 

“V-Viktor! Please!”

“Know what you need, mila,” he said holding her off the ground, arm across her body to pin her back against him as he thrusted into her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge as his fingers played with her and she writhed, trying to get something solid beneath her feet.  The slickness sliding down his balls and thighs made him shudder. She was always so responsive, wet and willing for him, perfectly wet and always tight for reasons he still couldn’t wrap his mind around. 

“No, mila,” he said, thrusting harder as she reached for the edge of the island. He stepped back carrying her further away. “Ne.”

“B-But--”

She closed her eyes feeling it hit her hard enough that she was screaming, so riled up from his roughness, the odd tenderness of it. She slumped, exhausted as he came and lowered her gently against the island, panting against her shoulder, pressing warm wet kisses there.

“Mila?”

“Bed,” she groaned and he laughed, sliding out of her gently, before scooping her off her feet. 

The first time he’d picked her up she’d screamed in shock, clung to him, half frightened that he would definitely drop her, nightmares about a rather awkward incident involving someone trying to pick her up and dropping her painfully. He hadn’t ever dropped her.

“One day, I will get you on broom.”

She looked at him appalled, “Never.”

“Never say never, mila. I can be very persuasive when I need.”

Hermione shook her head, “What happened to the Viktor who was afraid to kiss me?”

“You were fifteen and I was attracted to you. Not good impression on first date,” he said easily. “And war change everyone.”

Hermione nodded solemnly as he carried her first to the bathroom to get them both into her lavish tub, cleaned up and then back into bed. They woke up sometime after the rain had stopped before he mentioned that he had an event to go to tonight and cursed. 

“Tonight?” Hermione asked. 

“Da,” he groaned flopping back onto his back. “IQL event, have to show face.”

He looked at her, “You would go with me, please?”

Hermione blinked and lifted an eyebrow, “ _ Please? _ ”

He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her bare shoulder, “Will not survive giggling girls.  Please, only there long enough to be polite. Promise.”

She groaned, “But…”

“Will make it up to you,” he pleaded, pressing a warm kiss to her shoulder, “ _ Molya, mila _ ?”

She twisted as his hands snaked around her waist and between her legs. 

“That...is not fair.”

“All fair in love, war, and a coercion.”

She couldn’t help choking out a laugh in between a moan.

“O-Okay, okay, just…”

He hushed her, making her lean back and spread her legs, whispering dark sensual things in her ear as he played with her. Merlin, how he loved to play with her. He could spend hours coaxing her over the edge with just dirty things in her ear and his hands on her body. She was so responsive like a finely tuned instrument. Arching her back, twisting and writhing.

“I-I said okay, V-Viktor…”

“Shh,” he grinned. “Relax, too tense. Must make you relax and stop doubting.”

Hermione shuddered as he kissed her neck again and he murmured sweet things in Bulgarian into her ear. He knew how much she liked him speaking it and used it as much as possible in bed as it made her squirm with anticipation. She came with a low gasp, leaning her head back against him as he licked his fingers and held her. 

“Better yes?”

Hermione nodded, “How… did you know?”

“Vultures play Canons soon, know that Potter and …  _ Weasley _ go every game. Team promised to crush them every year on principle.”

Hermione chuckled at that and kissed his cheek, “You are a wonder you know?”

Viktor smirked, “Vie ste magiya.”


	4. Ron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She learned from the best.

“Ti si krasiva, lyubov moya,” he said looking over her shoulder into the mirror as she pinned her hair back. He kissed her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. The dress was a simple, sinfully tight red and elegant, cut in the muggle fashion. The hang loop kept her dress from dragging on the floor. The color vibrant and gorgeous on her dark skin, beneath her semi-tamed curls.

“You are quite handsome yourself.”

He grinned, wearing a black suit also cut in the muggle style and a red tie to match her gown. 

“Come,” he said, offering his arm. “Must show off most beautiful woman in world.”

Hermione laughed and took his arm, letting him lead her out of the bathroom to grab her clutch and to the fireplace she used to floo. They went first to a private junction and walked to the public fireplace to arrive at the event hosted in the middle of London. The paparazzi gasped seeing her and picked up their picture taking as Draco turned and greeted them.

“Well, Hermione, don’t you know how to make an entrance?”

She laughed as he hugged her and shook Viktor’s hand.

“I know such famous people, I have to stack up somewhere.”

Viktor snorted, “Right, first Order of Merlin.”

She wrinkled her nose as Draco took her other arm and told her that it was best to have too many accessories than too few before walking in with the two of them. Viktor smirked.as they entered and Rita Skeeter’s jaw dropped. Draco bade them goodbye going off to try and rub elbows like a good CEO.

“Take care of her Krum, she makes me a lot of money.”

“No worry,” he said. “Love her too much.”

Draco nodded as he walked away and Viktor lead her on to the floor, lifting a pair of flutes off a tray to hand her one.

“Hermione!”

She turned to see Harry and his date, one Luna Lovegood coming up to her. She beamed, hugging them both and complimenting Luna on her soft blue dress. The woman beamed at her, rather than radishes in her ears there were glittering baubles that looked a lot like cabbages. It was good to see that Luna was still Luna.

“Harry thought it was a good color.”

Hermione looked at Harry as he flushed, “Why Harry, you didn’t tell me that you were dating Luna.”

Harry glowered at her, “I could say the same of you and Viktor.”

Hermione shrugged, “I’m dating Viktor.”

“I’m dating Luna.”

Hermione laughed as Luna looked between them and then to Viktor, “Siblings are strange.”

Viktor nodded, “My brother and I do not always get along, but I can agree with that statement.”

“Picture for the Daily Prophet!”

Rita waited for the moment for Hermione to refuse, but she only pressed close to Viktor and looked up at him as he looked at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. The man snapped the picture and carried on. 

“Well Ms. Granger,” she said her Quick Notes Quill posed to take down her thoughts. “You certainly have been out of the public eye for sometime.”

Hermione smiled pleasantly, “Yes, I thought I’d done enough to boost your career.”

Rita hummed, “You and Mr. Krum have rekindled your romance from years ago, it seems. Not too long after your break up with the celebrated Auror Ronald Weasley.”

“It’s hard to mourn someone who cheated on you for your entire relationship,” she said with a smile. “I deserved better, so I found better.”

“And… no comment Mr. Potter? You and Luna seem to be rather chummy.”

Harry looked at Luna with a fond smile then back to Rita, “That’s what happens when you fall in love. Viktor makes Hermione happy. She’s practically my sister, what else can I say besides “invite me to the wedding.””

Rita gave a stiff chuckle before looking at the couple in question who smiled serenely until she went away. 

“I think even Nargles wouldn’t want to eat her,” Luna said. “Let alone Dementors.”

“Agreed,” Hermione said.

“What is Nargle?” Viktor asked and Hermione chuckled as Luna explained the creatures in great detail. Eventually, dinner was served and, unsurprisingly because the IQL had a very odd sense of humor, they were seated with Ron and Harry at a table with a few Chudley Cannon players. Ron hadn’t seen her all night so when Viktor pulled out a chair for her to sit in, he stared openly.

“H-Hermione?”

She looked at him, “Hello Ronald. How have you been?”

“Fine… you’re… here with Krum?”

“Yes, I’m here with Viktor,” she said before taking a drink of water and thanking Viktor for his chivalry before he took the seat beside Hermione.

“Weasley,” he greeted politely.

“Krum.”

It takes no time at all for one of the Cannon players to ask Hermione if she really had an Order of Merlin First class. She didn’t know his name, but since he was kind enough and interested enough in her research she didn’t really care. Viktor watched her talk with a fond smile, eating and chiming in where appropriate. Viktor’s grateful to be sitting with these particular who always preferred to stay out of the public eye whenever possible. They’d been the two who tipped him off to taking purely muggle holidays to escape wizarding press. He wasn’t sure if there were enough thanks in the universe for these two. 

As the night wore on, it became increasingly apparent that Ron wanted to have a word with Hermione as he wouldn’t stop staring. Viktor didn’t pay him any attention, taking Hermione out to the dance floor to whirl her around.

“May I cut in?”

Hermione looked to see Ron and Viktor looked at Hermione, searching her face. She returned his gaze and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I will get drinks, yes?”

“Yes, I’ll be along in just a moment.”

Hermione turned leading Ron off the dancefloor and to the sidelines.

“You have something to say Ronald?”

He swallowed, “Well… I’ve had sometime to think about it all… How have you been?”

“Good,” she said. “Things are going well. And yourself?”

“Well… not as… good as I thought they would be.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “But I get the feeling you didn’t interrupt for small talk.”

“No… look I… I had some time to… really understand...Vernica she was cheating on me.”

She didn’t even know who that was, the name lost in the long list. 

“And it gave me perspective I guess. I just wanted to say that I was sorry and I… I’ve changed Hermione.I’d like to… try again if you’d let me.”

Hermione waited patiently, not speaking but listening to him. It was a mark of how much she’d been emptied out with the whole ordeal and how far she’d come that his words didn’t touch any part of her. 

“Thank you for your apology,” she said primly.

He looked hopeful.

“Was that all?”

His expression dropped, “Well… what about us?”

“There is no us remember?” She said. “You cheated on me the entirety of our relationship--”

“Because I didn’t think I--”

“You slandered me.”

“It was--”

“You made me lose my job.”

“But--”

“And most importantly, you hurt me,” she said with a smile. “I think you’re lucky that I am in a place to listen to you at the moment.”

“But ‘Mione,” he started. “We’ve known each other for years--you can’t just--”

“You threw it away,” she corrected. “And I can do whatever I please with my love. Give it to whomever, spend my time with whoever, withhold it from whoever for as long as I please. Now, when you’re mourning, crying,or whatever it is you will do after this just remember that it’s your doing.”

“When did you become so cold?” he asked. “You’ve always forgiven me before.”

“There is a difference between forgiving, forgetting, and letting it happen again.”

“But I--”

“And I’m not being cold. I’ve simply learned.”

“Learned?” he asked. 

“Yes, Ronald. I learned from the best, Ronald,” she said kindly. “I learned from you.”

He paled and she turned as Viktor returned with drinks. 

“Have a good evening, Ronald,” she said and walked off with Viktor, ignoring his attempt to speak as she smiled up at Viktor and took the glass from his hand. 

“Is okay?”

“Perfectly.”


End file.
